The Playthings of Fate
by LostinOblivion
Summary: “Meeting you was fate, becoming your friend was a choice, but falling in love with you I had no control over.” -Unknown. A look at Mulder and Scully over the years mostly pre-XF. Not obvious MSR.
1. Chapter 1

Does fate rule us, direct our lives, show us where to go, who to become? Or, is it the combination of our life experiences that plop us on a path with a firm nudge to our bottoms and a few encouraging words about exploring and learning? Not so much nature versus nurture, as it is fate versus circumstance.

Those who follow a god (or gods) are happy to believe that fate plays a role, big or small, that their creator has a plan for them. Those who do not follow a god, believe in circumstance and free will-- that we direct ourselves, our mistakes and fortunes are our own. Who's wrong and who's right? Is it that simple?

It is not. And yet, it is.

Two people, born worlds apart and with very different life experiences (up until they meet) are tossed together by less than benevolent forces. Can such different life experiences really lead them to the exact same place at the exact same time? Or was their meeting in a cramped, chilled basement office all the work of fate? It's neither and both. Some people have the benefit of living simple black and white lives, these two...did not. All gray, always gray.

Fate and destiny chose them before birth, set them down on that path to life and gave them that smack on the bottom, knowing full well where it would lead them. These two people, this man and woman, they made their own choices, but the outcome was already designed. It had to be. Someone had to save us all. And, they couldn't do it alone. They had to suffer before they became heroes, life wasn't easy for them--ridicule, losing loved ones, nearly dying themselves. No, it was quite miserable for them. But, it had to be that way.

Someone had to save us.

* * *

Friday, October 13, 1961, 12:01a.m.

Martha's Vineyard

It was only fitting that he was born at the witching hour on Friday the 13th; that alone should have predestined him for the nickname 'Spooky'.

"Almost out, one more push Teena!" Dr. Gary McNamara called to the young woman sweating buckets in the bed, pushing for all she was worth.

She screamed, piercing and shrill as her child slid out of her body and into the world. The infant gave a wail that would have made a banshee jealous, as the doctor passed him off to the nurse. Teena Mulder collapsed back on the bed, her head lolling from side to side, trying to see her child. Her husband rubbed her hand, and strained to look at the bundle the doctor's assistant took across the room to tend to. He turned back to his wife, and kissed her forehead, whispering that she'd done wonderful.

"It's a little boy," the doctor said breathlessly, still tending to Teena.

She smiled at her husband. They had a son, a little boy. The nurse came over with a beautiful, red and wrinkled bundle squirming in her arms, and set him in Teena's arms. Bill Mulder had stopped breathing at the sight of his boy, and just stared enraptured. His wife caught the beautiful look on his face, the moisture in his eyes, and tears sprung to her own. Not for the first time, she prayed that her son was really _their _son.

"Do we have a name?" The nurse asked, smiling.

Teena looked at Bill, and he smiled indulgently at his wife. She turned back to the nurse.

"Fox. Fox William."

Bill had argued with her at first, but she'd seen the name in a book, and just fell in love with it. The dashing hero of some romance novel, one of the many she'd read in her last few months of pregnancy. And, just looking at their son now, he already looked every bit the fox. It didn't occur to either of them that their son might hate the name. The dubious expression from the nurse clearly suggested that she was of that opinion also.

After allowing the new parents some time with their son, she once again took possession of the boy, set him in a plastic bassinet, and rolled him down to the neonatal unit. Smiling and rubbing a finger along his cheek, she set him amongst the other babies, noting how his wide greenish eyes traveled along every inch of space he could see, examining everything. Every baby was different, some were sleepers, others wanderers, and Fox William, well, he wasn't a sleeper that was for sure. Even as she parked him amongst the other newborns, the young nurse couldn't help but feel that their was something different about him.

Fox remained awake for some time, staring up at the world, and occasionally shrieking for attention. Amongst the ten newborns in the neonatal unit that day, he appeared fairly unremarkable, another beautiful baby. The new parents, and their family and friends that gawked at the babies through the windows had no idea how special he really was.

The doctor who birthed him, the nurse who tended to him, and even his parents themselves couldn't have known that this child, the boy named Fox, would save them all in forty years. But, he wasn't the only one. Fate doesn't consign people to that sort of existence alone. There was another.

* * *

Same Day, Same Time  
San Diego

Maggie Scully rubbed the back of her colicky one year-old son, hoping to god he'd stop screaming. Being a new mother wasn't as great as everyone insisted, especially when your husband was out to sea. But, Maggie wouldn't trade her screaming son for anything, or anyone. She'd always wanted to be a mother, and when she married Bill Scully, she knew what she was getting herself into. Weak women do not become sailor's wives.

She just wished that sailor's namesake would stop screaming so much. At least there was no more breatfeeding, she would be thankful for that. Her mother never mentioned how painful it became when the baby started cutting teeth. She shook her head tiredly, and whispered close to Billy's ear. Thank god the neighbor's were forgiving. All military families, at this point only the sailors children and wives, who'd never make another military wife feel bad about a screaming baby.

They'd all been there, or would be there soon. They stuck together these ladies did, just as their husbands did on those ships far away in the sea.

Maggie came from a large family, and wanted a large family: three, four, maybe five if she wasn't crazy by then. She smiled at the thought of giving Billy brothers and sisters, a house full of giggling children. Their laughter, tears, and even fighting would suffocate all the loneliness of Bill's tours out at sea until is disappeared forever.

She didn't know at the time she was trying to soothe her first born, and contemplating future children, that a special little boy was coming into the world on the other side of the country. The soulmate of her third born was fidgeting in his plastic hospital bassinette as she tended to her son. She didn't know that her third-born child would be a girl with fire-red hair, and a spirit to match it. She didn't know her second-born, her first daughter, would die way too young in her younger sister's stead.

While Maggie suffered with her sick son, Bill Mulder smiled proudly at her daughter's perfect half.

* * *

February 23, 1964

4:15 p.m.

Base Hospital in San Diego

Bill Scully rushed through the hospital as fast as his legs would carry him, his heart racing in his chest. His third child was coming into the world, and he might not even make it to see. He'd been out on a drill, not far from shore, but far enough that Maggie had been in labor for several hours already. Bill Jr. and Missy had been with Maggie's mother for the last few weeks, while Maggie took it easy. He was glad, their third was right on time, almost down to the day of its due date.

"Uh, Maggie Scully, please," he nervously asked the young nurse at the desk.

"She's already in delivery, you her husband?" He nodded. She handed him a set of scrubs. "Change into these, she's in D5."

He nodded his thanks, found a men's room, changed quickly, and hurried down the hall, barely glancing at room numbers. He found it, and burst through the door, only to feel his heart freeze at the doctor's words.

"You've got to push, Maggie. The cord is wrapped around the baby's neck, we need to get it out quick." His voice was calm, but stern, his eyes piercing hers.

Maggie nodded, eyes wide, a nurse rubbing her shoulder. She saw Bill, and waved him over, tears already falling down her face. Still in stunned daze, Bill walked over to his wife, and took her hand. He helped brace her as she pushed, let her squeeze his hand without complaint. Then the baby was out, and he heard the doctor annouce that she was a girl. Everything sounded hollow, like he'd dived off his ship, and was floating under the surface.

Then she screamed.

Sound and awareness came rushing back to him, his heart resumed it's rapid beat, and Maggie cried beside him with relief. His kissed her forehead, and watched the nurses carrying a squirming bundle over to her, laying their beautiful, breathing baby girl in her arms. He noted the fine red hair that had already begun to grow on her head, but what really stood out to him, what brought tears to his eyes, were _her_ eyes. Bright, ocean blue beauties, just like his mother's.

Maggie smiled up at him, somehow knowing exactly what he was thinking. "I think she'll look just like her grandmother. Let's call her Dana."

His mother's name. Maggie had been thinking of another, had had her heart set on it, but wanted to give him this. So, he decided on both. "Dana Katherine."

Maggie beamed up at him, cuddling their baby girl. He leaned down, and kissed his wife, and new daughter. The nurses returned to get her, and finish cleaning her up, and little Dana objected strenuously.

His little girl was strong, a fighter. He was already proud of her. He couldn't possibly imagine how much she'd rely on that strength in the future. When the nurses put her in his arms, and she looked up at him with those blue, blue eyes, he had no idea he was holding the hope for the future.

Snuggled in his embrace then, Dana was perfect innocence. Helpless, though even now, not as fragile as she might look. But, fate had already chosen her, for whatever reason, marked her. The tiny baby girl with bright blue eyes would grow into the woman who'd save the world.

That little girl gazed up at her father, looking so serious, he had to chuckle. She grabbed his finger, and yawned sleepily. The future savior of mankind was a little pooped.

* * *

Martha's Vineyard

Same date, same time

Dana's perfect half stood up in his crib, hands gripping the railing, mouth open, and staring at a star that seemed to be twinkling just for him. He giggled and jumped on the bed, staring at that far off star, staring toward the west. There was a funny feeling in his tummy, a good feeling. Like the kind he got when Mommy got excited cause Daddy was comming home. Something really good was happening, and it made his belly tingle. He just wished he knew what that was. He giggled again.

"Fox?" His mother poked her head into the nursery, puzzled at seeing him awake.

"Mam! Mam!" He cried at her, waving his arms excitedly.

"You should be asleep," she told him, hands on her hips.

He shook his head, that gleaming million-dollar smile on his face. More than one woman had already told her that Fox would be absolutely devastating to women when he grew up. That smile was the least of it.

"What has you so excited, Fox?"

He pointed one chubby, saliva-coated finger toward the window and the star-studded sky beyond it.

She frowned, confusion sweeping her features. She was a little afraid, she knew what her husband was into, and that he to spent a lot of time looking into the sky. She ran a hand over her sons baby-fine hair, his brunette locks just kept growing in, it was hard to keep up with haircuts. She looked to the sky one more time, and felt a chill.

"Come on, I'll tell you a story." Tina pulled him out of his crib into her arms, and carried him into her bedroom. She didn't want him sleeping alone tonight. Fox didn't seem to mind. He stuck a thumb in his mouth, and stared at the pictures of Peter Rabbit and the other woodland folk.

He could still feel that funny bubbling in his tummy.

* * *

_I don't remember what inspired this one, I've been working on it (or rather procrastinating with it) for a while now. It's in three parts, so it should be finished pretty quickly. Thank you for reading, and reviewing is of course, always appreciated. Oh, and I looked it up, Mulder was actually born on Friday the 13th. I love it. Three chapters to this story.  
_

_Added note: This will be my last XF story. I can only handle so many fictional federal agents in my head at a time, and right now, I've got two other teams that are demanding my attention. And yes, I know that makes me sound kind of nuts. Somehow, it's still the clearest explanation._


	2. Chapter 2

Novmeber 22, 1973

8:55 p.m.

Martha's Vineyard

Why was she being such a pain in the ass? He was older, he was in charge, and he wanted to watch the Magician. Twelve year-old Fox shook his head at his little sister, and kept the remote control out of her reach. If he had to babysit Samantha again, he was watching whatever show he wanted to watch.

She jumped up at him, reaching for the controller, and knocking around the Stratego pieces. Fox just watched her with a smug look on his face; she could jump all she wanted to, but she was too short to reach.

"Come on, Fox," she whined loudly at him.

He was about to respond when the lights suddenly shut off, plunging the house into pitch darkness. Great, now they weren't watching anything. Or playing anything, for that matter.

"Fox?" Sam's voice was small, afraid. He could see the shapes of the ribbons in her hair, bounding with her head as she looked around.

"It's alright, it's just a blackout." He dropped his arm, no use to keeping the controller away from her now.

They both suddenly ducked away from the window, hiding their eyes from the brightest light he'd ever seen. It was pure white, and blinding with the intensity it shone.

"Fox," Samantha whimpered.

He didn't have the chance to respond before the buzz from the light's source had him covering his ears. It was loud, and high, like the white noise of an appliance magnified.

"Fox! Fox!"

He turned to see his terrified baby sister, horizontal in the air, moving slowly toward the opened window. Her dark brown eyes were enormous and wet with fear, her braids flying behind her head.

He swallowed, and ran for his father's gun, knocking the box from it's shelf high up. It fell down with a crash, and burst open. He fumbled for the gun as Samantha continued yelling his name, her high little girl voice growing more desperate as she got closer to the window, and the light. He aimed the gun and fired, but it was as if the gun were empty, the pin hitting nothing.

Fox kept firing, but nothing ever came out of the gun. He'd checked, he knew it was loaded, it didn't make sense, didn't make any sense at all. Sam was almost out the window, as he stared after her, on his knees.

"Samantha! Samantha!" He yelled, knowing it was useless.

Then both Samantha and the bright light disappeared, sending the room back into darkness, and a twelve year-old boy passed out on his living room floor, the gun discarded beside him.

The power came back on, lighting up the room, and bringing the voices of the Magician characters into the silent house. Fox didn't move.

* * *

Same day, Same time

San Diego, California

Dana sat crammed into the corner of the couch, her arms around her stomach, trying to stop the sore feeling in it, and her burnt orange curls falling in her face. She felt scared, like her whole world was about to change before her eyes, and there was nothing she could do about it. And, not good change. The kind of change that had her stomach in knots. She wanted to curl up into a ball, and hide under her blankets. If she couldn't stop it, she could hide from it.

"Dana?" Her father came into the living room, clearly looking for her, a large book in his hands. He'd been reading in his study, her mother must have told him she was in here.

"Hi Daddy," she said softly.

"What's wrong, Pumpkin? Mommy said you weren't feeling well?" He crouched in front of his daughter, studying her for any indication of what might be bothering her.

"My tummy hurts."

"Like you're going to throw up?"

She shook her head.

He sighed. "Like Charlie dive-bombed into you again?"

"No, Charlie's been playing with his trucks."

Bill Scully moved up from his not so young anymore knees, and sat beside her. "What does it feel like?"

Dana looked up at her father, big blue eyes studying him. She knew what it felt like, but she didn't know if she could tell him. She couldn't explain it after all. Would he believe her? Would be say it was nothing?

"Dana?" He asked patiently. "Pumpkin, whatever's wrong you can tell me."

The oceans of her eyes swayed, and began to drip down her cheeks. "It feels like something bad is happening."

He physically moved back, he was so startled by his young daughter's words. Dana curled further into herself at her father's expression, worried she'd upset him. Bill noticed, and pulled her into his lap. "What's going on, Dana? Did Bill tell you he and his friends were planning something?"

She shook her head.

"I don't understand what you mean, Pumpkin. Can you explain it to me?" He pushed her curls behind her head, and wiped the tears from her cheeks with his sleeve.

Dana sniffled. "It feels like when Grandpa was in the hospital, before he died. You and Mommy were upset, Mommy was crying, Grandma was crying. My tummy hurts like that."

Bill settled back into the couch, understanding settling in, right beside more confusion. "Are you worried about someone? Is one of your friends from school sick?"

Again, she shook her head.

Bill watched her, worry creasing his brow, and lining his face. Did Maggie's father's death upset her that much? The kids didn't see either set of grandparents very often, neither he nor Maggie thought it would be that hard on them. But, he knew, if it was going to profoundly affect any of his children, it would be Dana.

While she often seemed to be her very own pint-sized army, Dana was still a very thoughtful introvert. Quiet and empathetic, he knew his little girl picked up on much more than people often thought she could. Things tended to hit her hard, though she was already adapting her older brother's ways, and pretending it didn't. His little girl often seemed older than she was, and he wondered if maybe he and Maggie counted on that more than they should.

"What are you reading, Daddy?" From within the circle of his arms, she pointed to the book he'd set on the coffee table.

"One of my favorite stories, Moby Dick," he said, picking up the thick, hardback novel.

Dana frowned, her pink rosebud lips turning upside down. "What's it about?"

"A sea captain who goes chasing after a white whale."

Her eyes lit up. "Like you, Daddy?"

"Sort of. I'm military, while Captain Ahab, he's a fisherman." He released the breath that had been caged in his chest. She seemed okay.

"Can I read it with you, Daddy?" Tears nothing but dried tracks on her cheeks, she looked pleadingly up at her father.

"I don't know, Pumpkin. This is a grown-up book, it might be a little hard for you."

"Then you can explain it to me. Please?"

Bill Scully had learned long ago that he couldn't say no to his little girl, so he shook his head with a chuckle. "Alright, let me get to the beginning. You better get comfortable."

* * *

February 5, 1990

7:15 p.m.

Baltimore, MD

"So, did he tell you anything about this woman?" Dana smiled at her sister's excited tone, as she pestered her mother for more details on their brother's new girlfriend.

"Not much. Her name is Tara, and she's a school teacher. You know Bill, he won't give much away." Her mother was hoping for grandbabies in the near future, and Bill was a taking a step in the right direction.

"He said she's hot too," Charlie grinned.

All four of the other table members turned to send admonishing looks at the youngest of them. He simply chuckled, but quickly sobered up at his mother's look.

"So Starbuck, have you decided what you're going to do after your residency?"

Her attention flew toward her father, her throat suddenly dry. She'd been bouncing back and forth between pursuing cardiology or pathology. Her residency was in pathology, but she'd done more than one rotation as an intern in cardiology, and become close with her mentor. How close, her parents were much better off not knowing, but Richard was courting her with an almost desperation--both professionally and personally. That was part of what helped her make up her mind.

Her parents, needless to say, were hoping for cardiology. They weren't going to be happy with her decision.

"Actually, I have." She swallowed at the surprised looks on her family's faces.

Ahab smiled. "Great, what have you decided then?"

Dana inhaled, a sudden rush of warmth entering her belly, and traveling up her chest giving her comfort. The feeling helped steel her back, and her resolve with it. She could do this. She wouldn't back down, not from something she wanted so much. "Well, a couple months ago some people came to see me from the FBI, they were interested in recruiting me."

"Recruiting you, for what?" Her mother asked, voice suddenly high.

"To be a Special Agent, Mom. They want to expand in my specialty, and apparently several people have dropped my name."

"So, they want you for lab work?" Ahab was sitting stonily, nothing showing on his face.

"At first, I think. But, I'd be a full agent, I could be assigned to field work."

"That's so cool! You'd carry a gun, and chase down killers and thugs?" Missy was as always, terribly enthusiastic, and it enabled her to release a breath.

"It's possible."

Charlie chuckled. "They let women as short as you do that?"

She glared at him, but couldn't hold it, and they both laughed. "It's not about size, Charlie, it's about skill."

"This is something you're considering?" Her father's voice cut-off all their antics.

"Well actually, I called them on Monday, and told them I'd be in their next class." It took all her restraint not to stare down at her plate, but look into her father's eyes.

She didn't see her mother's mouth drop open in surprise, her eyes already looking frightened, contemplating another one of her children in a dangerous job.

"Did you think about this, Dana?" That he didn't use her nickname wasn't lost on her.

"Yes, I have been for the last two months. I'm excited, I feel like I could really do some good at the FBI."

"And, what about cardiac surgery? Isn't that what you wanted a month ago?"

"I was considering that, yes. Dr. Waterston was...very flattering in his assessment of my skill." That was one way of putting it, she thought dryly.

"If you're so talented in cardiology, then why pursue pathology?" Still as a brick wall, and just as unmovable, that was Ahab.

"Because, I'm just as good with a dead body as a live one." She barely kept her eyes from widening. Good grief, where did that come from? She breathed in deeply, it was said, and she wasn't going to back down now. That warm feeling was buzzing around her stomach and chest with a fury, spurred her forward, and she continued, ignoring the startled looks on her parent's faces. "I love what I do now, and I can do even more if I work for the Bureau. I'll be able to distinguish myself there in ways I couldn't in a more traditional practice."

"Pathology doesn't seem a bit...unseemly to you, Dana?" Her mother was grimacing, she never liked her daughter's interest in pathology, she'd hoped it was only a phase.

"Why would it? I'm up to my elbows in blood either way."

Charlie laughed again from beside her. "At least her patients can't sue."

Dana bit her lips, and looked down to keep from laughing; Missy didn't show the same restraint.

"This is what you really want, Dana?"

"Yes, it's what I want."

He didn't yell, it was even worse. He simply nodded, disappointment welling in his eyes like tears, and returned his eyes to his plate. The conversation was over. Dana glanced at her mother, whose eyes moved from her husband down to her own plate, a new sadness visible in them. Dana swallowed down the lump in her throat, and moved her fork around her pasta, her body suddenly sagging.

* * *

Same day, Same time

Alexandria, VA

"I don't care what they said, Diana! They're hiding something in those files, and I intend to find out what!" Mulder was shouting as he pawed through the files he'd stolen from the basement landfill of x files.

"Fox, would you please calm down? You're being paranoid." She rested her hands on his biceps, one traveling up to softly trace his cheek.

"How can you not be?" He demanded, shaking her off. "You've seen some of what I've seen, you know these files are legitimate."

He knew he was getting worked up, but it felt like there were jumping beans in his blood. Those jumping beans were agitating him, and he couldn't make himself calm down. He was determined to fight for his files. Yes, _his_ files. The last few months he spent hunched over in the shitty lighting of the basement made those files his. He'd protect them like they were his children. No, like they were his last lead to Samantha.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Because, I think their reluctance to have you poking through these is less to do with the matter discussed in the reports, and more with their desire to utilize your talents in other areas."

"I won't profile again, Diana. I can't."

She cocked her head to the side, a soft expression gracing her face, and dropped her arms. "I know that. But...I think our bosses are still hoping you'll go back to it. You're the best they've got, Fox."

"Don't let Patterson hear you say that."

She smirked. "I won't."

"Going back to it would be a death sentence," he said softly. Whether by exhausting himself to severe illness, or a fatal car wreak, or even suicide, Mulder knew profiling would kill him. At least, quicker than the x files would.

"I wouldn't allow that," she promised him, voice like a whisper against her ear. Her fingers gently caressed his skin again, brushing against the first hints of stubble.

Mulder swallowed, his heart pounding from the anger he'd been exercising for the last ten minutes. The jumping beans were still in his blood, making him hyper, and dangerously close to embarrassing himself. He gasped as Diana's hand slid up his shirt, and over his bare, muscled chest. His embarrassment grew.

She kissed him, softly, gently at first, before her lips crushed against his hard enough to bruise. Mulder moaned, and found himself with his erection pressed into her belly. Well, he certainly couldn't tell her he wasn't interested, and after a moment of thought, he realized, he didn't want to. He backed Diana up into his sofa until her knees buckled, and she fell into it.

His eyes burned with hunger as he yanked his shirt over his head, and got rid of his pants. Diana was just as quick, her eyes just as hungry, and her legs a literal open invitation. He didn't wait for a formal one, but lowered himself to her body, his nerves jumping at the skin to skin contact. It was his first sexual encounter with Diana, and the only one on his beloved couch.

Diana was the kind of woman who demanded a bed, and the kind of woman who never gave all of herself. But, then Mulder didn't either. Not with her at least. Though, he reclaimed his role as putty in the hands of a powerful, beautiful woman that night and for nearly a year with her. His chickadee.


	3. Chapter 3

September 14, 1993

6:30 p.m.

Loneguman's Office

"So, tell us about the new partner?" Langley leaned back in his chair, regarding their FBI agent friend, who seemed in oddly good spirits.

"She's..." Mulder faltered. What to say about his new partner? He blurted out the first adjective that came to mind. "Small."

He was rewarded with three identical looks of confusion. He sighed. "She's at least a foot shorter than me, and probably doesn't even weigh a 110lbs, but with all the piss and vinegar running through her veins she could take out a rugby team."

His eyes went to Byers, who was watching him with a studious look on his face. It was Frohicke though who put a voice to the man's thoughts. "You like her."

"Yeah, I guess I do."

Frohicke sighed in frustration.

"What? I said I liked her, not that I trusted her."

"With you, it isn't far from point A to point B," the little man insisted.

"To point C," Langely added.

"What's point C?"

"The naked pretzel."

"What? Are you all insane?" He demanded angrily. He didn't have sex with every woman he met, and he worked with this woman. Not that that had stopped him with Diana, but that was neither here nor there.

"I think what my colleagues are trying to say is that your weakness is women. That, if you develop a relationship with this woman, she could use you and betray you," Byers explained with all the finesse his friends lacked.

"Nice that you all assume I have no control over my cock."

"Why do you think they sent a woman, Mulder?" Frohicke demanded, hands on his hips.

"You think they sent her to seduce me?" He couldn't help but smirk.

"Yes, to seduce you and destroy you."

"You haven't met this woman, Fro'. Seducing me isn't on her agenda, I can guarantee that." Though, there was that little strip show she put on...but that wasn't a seduction, that was a scared woman.

Langely brushed his hair away from his face with a hand. "Is she ugly?"

"No, she's isn't. Agent Scully is very attractive."

"Then why is it so unlikely that she could seduce you?" Frohicke eyed him, as if he'd just made his point.

"I didn't say she'd couldn't seduce me. I said she wouldn't." This was not the conversation he envisioned when he thought about telling the guys about Scully.

"What's your proof?" The smallest Gunmen with the hottest temper demanded.

Mulder chuckled. That was what Scully would have said. "She's not a whore for hire. This woman has ethics, boys; she's not going to bang anyone because someone tells her too."

"You sound like you've already formed an opinion of her, a positive one," Byers said thoughtfully.

Mulder sighed, trust the Gunmen to launch an inquisition. "I like her. I respect her. My gut tells me that I can trust her, but do I yet? No. It's too soon to go there. It's best I keep a little distance for now." He added with a boyish smile, "But I don't think it would hurt to charm her a little."

"You're a hound, Mulder." Frohicke shook his head.

The FBI agent rolled his eyes. He had no intention of getting romantically or sexually involved with Dana Scully. He'd already made that mistake with Diana, and had no desire to repeat it again. Though, he wouldn't deny he was already kind of fond of his new partner. She was smart, and quick, and honest, and held more compassion in her pinky finger, than every woman he'd ever dated put together.

He also couldn't seem to convince himself to forget that brief little snuggle. He could still feel the spot where she'd pressed her forehead to his chest, and wondered how it hadn't burnt a hole through his shirt yet. They'd already experienced a startling level of intimacy on their first case, and broke the fraternization rule as if it didn't exist. She'd been in nothing but her underwear and a bathrobe, for god's sake!

But, the boys really didn't need to worry. Mulder wasn't stupid. He knew he was drawn to her, and in a way he couldn't begin to explain. Dana Scully was dangerous for that reason, and for that reason, he would try damn hard to keep her at arms length. That wouldn't be easy, not when his gut was already telling him to go see her, spend time with her. But, one little question still nagged at his brain and steeled his spine against his pesky gut.

What if she was a spy?

* * *

Same date, Same time

Scully knew it was coming, in fact she was counting down silently in her head as she perused the Ambrosia Cafe lunch menu. 3...2...1...and cue Missy.

"So, you're first field partner, first field assignment, tell me about him and it." Missy attempted to appear casual as she peered around her lunch menu, but the glint in her eye gave her away.

"Do you know what you want to order?"

"Yes, I do. Now spill." Before Scully even had a chance, the waitress came over, pen and pad in her hands, and all smiles.

"What can I get you ladies?" After shrinking slightly from Missy's glare, the waitress quickly jotted their orders and took off.

"Was that necessary?" Scully asked.

"She interrupted. Now, tell me about your new partner." She grinned, and played with the crystal around her neck.

"He's...very smart, no that's not quite right, the man is brilliant. And, he's a little out there. Not in an absent-minded professor kind of way, but more like clinically insane. At least, coming from anyone else, that's what I'd say, but with him...he just doesn't seem crazy. He's a brilliant, completely rational man that happens to believe in aliens and creatures that go bump in the night," Scully rambled to her sister's great amusement.

"Dana Katherine, you're completely fascinated by this man," Missy teased, eyebrows dancing suggestively.

"Missy! He's my partner!"

"Uh huh, and you haven't said a word about what he looks like, which tells me he's very attractive."

"And, on what do you base that assessment? For all you know, he could look like Gonzo."

"If he were ugly, weird-looking, or even not bad, but didn't do it for you, you'd have started with that. That you haven't made any mention of his physical attributes tells me that the man's a fox."

Scully's eyebrows shot up, as she a small smile appeared on her lips.

"And, I drew the Knight of Cups, when I did a reading for you."

Scully sighed. "Missy, I told you that I don't believe in Tarot, crystals, voodoo or any of that."

"But, I do," Missy insisted. "You're going to meet a man who will change your life, who will be very important to you."

The two sisters stared each other down for a few seconds until Missy finally gave up. "So what does he look like?"

Scully rolled her eyes. "He's tall, dark and handsome."

Missy chuckled, and then regarded her sister suspiciously. "You're leaving something out."

Scully bit her lip, and then leaned close to Missy. "We talked a lot on the case. There's this sad, almost painful vulnerability in his eyes when he lets his guard down, and it just...He blames himself for his baby sister being kidnapped. He was only 12 at the time."

"Oh, that's terrible. Is that why he joined the FBI?"

Scully nodded. "He's still trying to find her."

Missy just shook her head sadly, before a wicked smile broke out on her face. "I don't think we'd have tried that hard to find Charlie."

Scully chuckled. "He was such a pain in the butt."

"Mom spoiled him."

"Well, he was the baby."

"Didn't mean we had to suffer for it," she said. "So, anything interesting happen on this case?"

"That isn't classified, you mean?"

"Yes, something the big bad Bureau won't mind you telling me."

Scully smiled, already knowing she'd regret telling Missy. "Well, I may have performed a panicked strip tease in Mulder's room."

Missy's eyes widened, just before she broke out into full on shrieking laughter.

* * *

May 17, 1994

2:45 a.m.

Bridge in Washington DC

Heart thundering in her head, breath coming in panicked, labored gasps, Scully searched Deep Throat frantically for a pulse. Her fingers shaking, she pressed them to his throat, shifting them around desperately, and unsuccessfully. He was gone. Only allowing herself a few seconds of shock, Scully quickly scrambled on hands and knees to Mulder. The weak moan told him at least_ he_ was still alive.

"Mulder, come on. Try to open your eyes." She wasn't even sure he could. It looked almost like he'd suffered chemical burns, and she wondered briefly if he hadn't been permanently blinded.

She whipped out her cell, and frantically dialed 911, not even letting the operator finish her standard greeting. "This is Special Agent Dana Scully with the FBI, I'm on the P Street Bridge, I need an ambulance right away. My partner has been injured, possibly exposed to dangerous toxic chemicals. It's not contagious, but chemical burn precautions should be taken."

The woman asked for her badge number, and Scully supplied it. It took two minutes to confirm, and then the woman assured her the bus was on the way. Scully also added that they needed the ME's office as well. Finally, she turned her attention back to Mulder.

"Sc-Scul-ly?" Scully looked up from his chest, where she was checking for further injuries, to see his mouth moving, struggling to speak.

"I'm here, Mulder. What's wrong?" Besides the obvious, she thought.

"Gun shot."

"Deep Throat. They killed him, Mulder. I'm so sorry." She stroked a hand over his cheek, tenderly.

"You o-okay?" He still hadn't opened his eyes, and was wincing slightly in pain.

"Yes, I'm fine. Mulder, are you injured anywhere besides the chemical?"

He snorted. "Maybe...my p-pride."

Scully smiled. "Well, I think that'll heal just fine without medical intervention."

"Hav-have to s-stop them, Sc-ully." He was barely conscious, but sounded surprisingly insistent.

"Yeah, I know. We will Mulder. Together." The high-pitched whoop of a siren caught her attention, and she sent a silent prayer of thanks up at the sight of a DC ambulance screaming toward them. She turned back to Mulder. "Right now though, you need to be at the hospital, getting better."

His only response was a moan as he fell back into unconsciousness.

The hours that followed, maybe even the days, were a complete wash for Scully. Everything blended into everything else. Skinner arrived at the bridge at some point, demanding a full accounting, paramedics determined she was fine (not that she needed the confirmation), the ME arrived to take away Deep Throat, she answered more questions that she'd ever remember, signed a statement, promised a finished report by end of business the next day, and somehow made it to the hospital. Skinner might have driven her, or a local police officer. Either way, she stared at sleeping, healing Mulder for maybe ten minutes, before collapsing into the chair next to his bed.

She did not forget her promise to him. They would stop the men behind the conspiracy, together. And, with a firm nod of her determination, she rested her head on the bed beside Mulder's arm, and fell quickly asleep.

And, then their fates were sealed. Together.

* * *

_Thank you all very much for reading and reviewing. To reiterate, this is my last X Files fic, I'm officially retiring from the fandom (though it will always be my all-time favorite show). Writing here has been a wonderful experience, and I cannot thank you all enough for taking the time to read and comment on my stories. It means a lot to know you've enjoyed them. _

_Thanks very much, and Happy Mother's Day!_


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